Chapter 145
Chapter 145
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 145
Chapter Title: The Reactionary, the Egoist, and the Red (2)
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***
Dawn was carefully examining the flames lingering on the railroad tracks.
—Everyone, get out of the station!
A crotchety old man's voice boomed across the crumbling station. It was amplified by magic, laced with mana.
—This is an order from Lord Jo Pantoriano! The station is now under the control of the Mage Corps!
Jo Pantoriano? Dawn recalled that was the West Palace Lord's name and furrowed his brow slightly.
'...A palace lord who's joined hands with the Shepherds.'
Not long after Kahal Magdu's raid on the station, the West Palace Lord's forces were occupying it?
Too coincidental to be chance, too blatant to be a prepared plan.
Recalling the North Manchuria incident where Kahal Magdu had allied with the Korean government, it seemed likely the West Palace Lord was behind the station's destruction...
'But what was he thinking, destroying the railroad? Cutting off the city's lifeline himself.'
Dawn swallowed his questions and turned to leave. He had no more business at the station.
Neti naturally followed behind him, and the two blended into the throng of merchants evacuating like refugees.
—Anyone remaining in the station against Lordship's orders will be executed on the spot, regardless of status! I repeat! Everyone out of the station!
With that final threatening warning from the mage, the two slipped out of the station.
A few mages controlling access outside glanced at Dawn and Neti but didn't bother inspecting them, perhaps sensing their mana.
Moments later, Neti called out to Dawn's back as he walked ahead.
"Brother-in-law, does this mean our way back to Earth is blocked?"
"For a while, yeah. With the tracks that wrecked... we'll be stuck in this city until repairs."
"Then how about walking to the city with the dimensional gate, skipping the railroad?"
Neti's eyes sparkled with a strange anticipation. Dawn shrugged.
"Well, I don't mind... but can you handle months of camping on the road without bathrooms?"
"...."
Months? Neti recoiled at the mere thought.
"...Better to just wait for the railroad repairs."
Dawn chuckled at her expression, so like Seti's, then scanned their surroundings.
The street in front of the station was littered with dejected merchants who'd been chased out, all seemingly those who'd lost money and goods in the recent terrorist attack.
After glancing at them for a moment, Dawn spoke up.
"Hey... Neti?"
"You could call me sister-in-law instead of my name."
Neti replied slyly. Dawn ignored her and continued.
"We'll have to put off meeting Seti for a bit."
"Huh? Why? Because of the train?"
"That's part of it... but this seems like the perfect spot to get to work."
Neti tilted her head. Perfect for what?
Instead of satisfying her curiosity, Dawn approached a merchant dragging a large load.
"Who're you?"
The sudden approach made the merchant eye him warily.
Dawn bowed slightly, as if to prove he meant no harm.
"Excuse me, sir. Could I ask you something?"
"...Can't you see I'm busy?"
As the merchant grumbled curtly, Dawn subtly pulled a silver coin from his pocket.
"It'll just take a moment."
No merchant in this world ever refused money.
The merchant feigned reluctance but took the gleaming coin.
"Fine... let's hear it."
Neti stifled a scoff at the attitude flip, but Dawn pressed on with his question.
"I'm a traveler, so I was wondering if you could recommend a good inn?"
"...An inn?"
"Seems like we're stuck in this city until the railroad's fixed. Price doesn't matter—just somewhere the merchants know well."
Odd question? The merchant eyed Dawn up and down silently, then glanced at Neti behind him before scratching his chin.
"...Coming to a dump like this for tourism. Some luck you've got."
"Travel's best done young."
"That's for nobles... Anyway, follow the main road west from here—you'll hit the Golden Pond. Pricey, but best security in the city. Go there."
With that, the merchant turned away as if done talking, and Dawn didn't stop him.
Instead of heading west as suggested, he veered into another alley.
Weaving among merchants unaware of his silver coin handouts, Dawn approached another and asked the same question.
—I'm a traveler, so could you recommend a good inn?
Some frowned at the sudden query, but none refused the silver.
They answered with merchant-like honesty, their responses all similar.
Golden Pond, Pumpkin Tower, Jade Palace...
By the time Neti had memorized every high-end inn in the city and Dawn had spent at least twenty silver coins.
Neti, who'd been following quietly, finally asked.
"Brother-in-law, what are you doing?"
"Nothing much. Just getting my face out there and fishing."
"...Fishing? We're only talking to merchants, though?"
"Merchants are the river. We've baited them—real fish will bite soon."
No further explanation.
Before Neti could ask more, Dawn spotted another merchant.
This one was a scarred middle-aged man who gave a slightly different answer.
"Inn? I know a great one. I can guide you if you want."
His eyes on Dawn and Neti gleamed with blatant greed, but Dawn didn't refuse.
He even handed over another silver coin with thanks, making the merchant burst into hearty laughter.
"Come on, I'll show you—a place even your lady can relax."
Lady? Wipe that lecherous look off your face.
Neti suppressed the urge to decapitate the merchant ogling her body. Now she understood Dawn's "fishing."
Anyway, the two followed the merchant obediently.
Leaving the north side, as the West Palace Lord's tower came into view, the merchant veered off the main road into alleys, claiming a shortcut.
"Don't worry—only safe alleys."
Whatever the merchant blabbered, Dawn just smiled like a sucker.
By the time Neti wrinkled her nose at the back-alley stench and the sun began to dip.
The merchant stopped in front of a rundown building unfit even as a tavern, let alone an inn.
"Here we are! Duncan's Inn—the best in the city, known only to those in the know!"
Best inn? Dawn smirked.
His superhuman senses caught the sweet burning herb smell beyond the walls, mingled with the hidden tang of blood.
Drugs and blood.
Dawn grinned back at the merchant's smug smile.
"...We found the right place."
***
Thud!
Thud, thud!
Thud, thud, thud!
Knocks pounded on the back door, filling the rundown building.
Too early for customers?
The man dozing at a table on the first floor dragged himself up, face half-irritated, half-exhausted, and headed to the back door.
"Who is it?"
"Looking for a guy named Duncan."
"...This late? Who sent you?"
"Don't know the name, but a scarred merchant. Said he could help make big money."
"Ah, Madian's referrals. One moment."
The man drew a dagger from his belt as he spoke.
Hearing Madian's name banished any lingering fatigue.
Madian was a notorious slaver in the organization, after all.
The man assumed these were more suckers walking into slavery.
As he gripped the doorknob without worry.
Bang!
Something from the other side smashed the door. The rickety wood shattered, and the man behind it took a hit too.
"Gahk!"
He flew back, rolling across the floor. Pain surged from his chest, choking his breath.
Broken ribs? He wheezed, trembling, and checked the door.
'Crazy bastard...'
Madian had smashed it—someone had slammed Madian's head into the door.
Madian shuddered, blood gushing from his forehead, staining the door.
The knocking earlier must've been Madian's skull too. Had to be.
Nothing else explained the caved-in forehead.
"Urk, you... fuck, hack, who are you?"
The man glared at the stranger gripping Madian's hair. No answer.
Assassin from a rival outfit? Or one of those weird outsiders lately?
Had to be.
Not many in this city bashed heads in broad daylight.
"Y-Your... identity..."
The man's words cut off. He shuddered and slumped unconscious.
The young man glanced down at him, tossed Madian at the door, and entered.
He silently scanned the interior. The first floor, disguised as a normal inn, held nothing special.
Dusty bar, bottles, scattered tables and chairs.
Appearances could deceive, but not scents.
Concentrating mana in his nose, he easily located his target.
Behind the bar counter, a hidden basement entrance.
The young man—Dawn—followed the smell downstairs.
Before he took many steps, Neti peeked in from outside.
"Brother-in-law... you didn't kill them all, right?"
Unlike Seti, she seemed averse to killing.
She grimaced at Madian bleeding profusely and the fallen man.
'...Normal to be averse to murder.'
Dawn shook his head at her.
"Both still alive. For now."
"For now? You sound just like Sis."
Of course—Seti taught him that. Dawn shrugged and headed to the basement.
As he opened the door and descended, Neti followed, chattering.
"Using those merchants earlier, and finding this place so quick—how?"
"...Information and experience."
Info squeezed from Dagall the desert wraith, experience from cleanup crew days watching back-alley gang wars and smugglers.
Dawn skipped details; Neti interpreted freely.
Spinning her imagination wild.
"You're from a rough neighborhood, right? Like this city—full of criminals, gunfire every day... Mexico City?"
"...."
Incheon wasn't that bad. Dawn let her fantasy slide.
"First meeting with Sis must've been straight out of a drama. She falls for you fighting a crime gang, saves you at first sight...?"
"...No, not that."
"Or you saved her when she was fighting?"
"...."
No, your sister ambushed and beat me one-sidedly.
As Dawn swallowed the truth, thick smoke rose from the basement stairs.
Opaque haze blinding visibility.
Cloying, sticky sweetness invaded nostrils, sliding into lungs.
Before it spread from lungs to veins, Dawn circulated mana.
"...Drugs. Block before it hits your blood."
Neti raised mana instantly, pinching her nose.
"Ugh, I'll purify the air."
She wove a spell. Telekinesis magic whipped the air, shoving smoke aside.
Unlike Seti the martial artist, magic was Neti's specialty? Dawn eyed her telekinesis as he descended.
Moments later.
—Customers? This early?
—Who opened the door?!
—Squeak—squeak, humans, a female human!
They entered a raccoon den... no, a sewer-turned hideout packed with drugged men.
Ratkin they'd met in the sewers mingled with humans, orcs, and dwarves, all reveling in narcotic bliss.
But the most striking wasn't the dazed异種— it was the old man meditating dead center, eyes closed.
Long beard to his navel, cross-legged.
'...Mage.'
Dawn identified him instantly. Impossible not to—the mana pouring from him was substantial.
"Who are you?"
The old man slowly opened his eyes. Unlike the writhing addicts, his gaze was calm.
Dawn rested a hand on his sword hilt.
"A customer."
"...Not here for drugs, I see."
"I want information, not drugs."
The mage stared piercingly.
"Sorry, we don't deal in information."
"Yeah? But..."
Dawn drew his sword. The dull yellow blade emerged silently, gleaming coldly.
Killer intent so thick even the junkies flinched.
"...Dagall said otherwise."
"Whatever tie you have to that third-rate worm-controlling mage, you're misinformed. We only buy information, never sell."
"No need to sell. I'm not buying."
"...?"
Finally, emotion cracked the mage's face.
Doubt, suspicion, realization... rage.
Dawn's sword responded, sheathing in milky sword aura.
Blinding light scattered drug smoke as Dawn voiced the mage's feared answer.
"Hand it over."
***